


Call Me Again

by thewestmeadow



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: But Mostly Smut, F/M, Smut, and there's even a slight story!, yes it's a booty call
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2020-03-02 18:42:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18816772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewestmeadow/pseuds/thewestmeadow
Summary: You're angry beyond belief at circumstances beyond your control. Luca Changretta might be able to help you out in more than one way.





	Call Me Again

You held the slip of paper in your hands, your hand shaking slightly with rage. On it was written the phone number of the man you had met up with once or twice for drinks over the last few weeks. His name was Luca Changretta, a New Yorker with a sharp sense of style and an elegance that had enraptured you. It had been a bad day, and when you got home, then only person you could think of was him.

You wanted to call him, badly. You hadn’t even been drinking. The only thing altering your thoughts was the boiling anger towards your boss, who had flat-out ruined your week, your month, and possibly your year. But you couldn’t dwell on it now. You needed something to assuage that anger. The phone number in your hands was written in a dark, slanting script that calmed and intrigued you.

You picked up the rotary phone on your bedside table, sitting cross-legged on the bed. Your heart pounded as your fingers twirled, and for a split second your mind screamed at you to hang up. But it was too late. The dial tone hummed, and you froze in anticipation.

“Yes?”

The voice on the other end made your heart skip. That cool, smooth New York accent made your skin flush. You tried to keep your voice even.

“Hi,” you said hesitantly. “This is Y/N. We met at—“

“Y/N. How you doing?” he interrupted amiably. Obviously he remembered you. You had feared that he wouldn’t, which was ridiculous, because the man had shown an obvious interest in you during your time together.

“I’m alright,” you lied, “Hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time.”

“Not at all. What can I do for you?”

Your mind raced and you felt your stomach tighten. _What can I do for you?_ You could think of plenty of answers to that question— none of them appropriate.

“I wondered if you wanted to get together again.”

“I’d love to. Sorry I haven’t called. Business.”

You could see him gesturing apologetically in your mind’s eye. You loved watching those hands move through the air, and had been secretly yearning to see where else they would move.

“When’s good for you?”

“Now,” you said abruptly, then attempted to smooth it over: “I’d love to see you tonight. If you’re not busy.”

He must have sensed the hunger in your voice. There was a pause on the other end, filled with the sound of your hammering heart.

“I’d love to see you too.”

“Come to my apartment. We can have a drink here, or we can go out if you like.”

Luca said a drink sounded superb. You gave him your address. He jotted it down. You hung up and threw yourself back on the bed, reeling at what you had just done.

You didn’t rest for a full half hour. You paced and checked your teeth in the mirror and put on your shoes when you realized you were barefoot. That was absurd, you thought, when you might be taking them off again very soon. But they stayed on for now.

The knock at your door finally came. You were met with the sight of the tall, dark-haired man in a black suit and hat. His maroon tie added a flash of color to his dark demeanor. His eyes glittered at you from the dim hallway, slight amusement playing upon his face.

“Evening,” he said, stepping slowly inside. He hung his hat and coat on the back of your door. You could hardly believe Luca Changretta was there in your apartment. But you were no longer nervous. You had changed out of your work clothes into simple evening attire, dabbing a drop of opium-scented _eau de perfum_ on your neck. Luca seemed to admire you in passing as you stepped behind him to close the door.

“Thanks for coming over,” you said, stepping into the kitchen to open a bottle of wine. You gestured to him. “Like some wine?”

“I’d never turn down an offer of red wine,” he admitted as you took two glasses from the cabinet and poured them halfway full. You let the wine breathe as you leaned on the counter. Luca’s eyes scanned you.

“Something troubling you this evening?” he inquired.

“It’s been a rough day. That’s why I called. I could use the company or else I’m going to go crazy.”

He picked up the two glasses, handing one to you and toasting.

“Here’s to a better night,” he said, and your glasses clinked together.

You moved into the living area, where Luca took a seat on your big red velvet sofa. You hesitated, wondering whether to join him there or sit in a separate chair. But Luca decided for you.

“Come sit with me. I want to take a closer look at your dress.”

You set your wine glass on the coffee table and sat down beside him. He took the draping end of your sleeve between his fingers, admiring the fabric.

“This is very well made,” he mused, tracing the seams with his eyes.

“You’re always dressed well,” you said, returning the compliment. “Where do you get your clothes?”

“Italy.”

“Of course.”

His fingers had grazed your wrist, sending shivers over your skin. He draped an arm over the back of the sofa, taking a sip of wine, then setting it down beside yours. He locked eyes with you.

“You called me for a reason,” he said directly.

“Well…”

“You’re upset about something. You say you want my company. Is that all you want?”

You decided to answer him with equal directness. “No.”

“Listen, darling. You haven’t been drinking?”

“No— just this wine. I called right after work.”

“Because I don’t want you to regret whatever it is you’re wanting.”

You looked at him hard. No, there was no way you were going to regret this. He had treated you with utmost respect at your every meeting. You knew what you wanted.

Luca’s fingers found your wrist again. This time they traced not the fabric but the skin beneath.

“Because I wouldn’t regret it,” he murmured.

You sucked in your breath as he lifted your hand, placing his lips on the soft skin of your wrist, then your palm. His dark eyes flickered up to yours.

“I want you,” you breathed.

Luca merely nodded, pushing up the sleeve of your dress, lining your forearm with slow, light kisses. When he reached the crook of your elbow, you draped your arms around his neck, looking from his eyes to his lips.

“Can you help me?” you whispered.

His eyes burning with a rising desire, fixed now upon your lips.

“I’ll do whatever you want me to do,” he said, but his last word was mumbled into your mouth as you leaned into him, lips against his. His mouth was cool and soft, and you could feel the heat from his body as he wrapped his arms around you, his hand rising up your back into your hair. You moaned into him at his touch. You were bursting with desire, and he could feel it. He suddenly hooked his arms behind your legs and picked you up in one deft movement.

“Where’s your bed?” he mumbled.

You pointed, then began to kiss his neck lightly as he carried you into your dark bedroom. He lay you down on your bed and started to remove his tie while watching you. But you grabbed him and pulled him down, swiftly straddling him and kicking off your shoes behind you. _There they go_ , you thought wryly, then resumed your hungry conquest of his body, unbuttoning his white shirt, revealing the taught check and stomach beneath. You kissed him all the way down to his belt buckle, then started to undo it. Luca grasped the hem of your dress, lifting it expertly over your head, with careful attention to the delicate fabric. Leaning over him, you slid off his pants and began to run your lips along his thighs. Now it was his turn to moan. It was a sound you never thought you’d hear, and it thrilled you to the core. His cock grazed your stomach, and his skin quivered at your touch.

He grabbed your hair, bringing you back up to his face. He kissed you, hard and deep, and without warning he grabbed his cock and thrust firmly into you. You moaned in utter shock. Then you started to ride him. And a wild ride it was. Luca was fit, full of energy and force, while you were full of anger, hunger, desperation. He let you ride on top of him where you were on full display for his eager eyes.

“Just let it all out,” came his hoarse voice. You did. You could feel him throbbing inside you. Then when you tossed your head back, eyes shut and brow clinched in pleasure, he came. He cried out. You felt him arc and then go weak beneath you. When you collapsed onto the bed beside him, he rolled you over immediately, fingers searching you. Still aroused, you moaned again at his touch.

“That’s right, baby,” he said into your ear. One finger slid inside of you, while the other hand rhythmically caressed your clit.

“Fuck,” you breathed, writhing in pleasure.

“Does that feel good?”

“Mmhmm.”

“You’re soaking wet.”

You couldn’t respond. His fingers moved faster, and your voice grew louder. He clutched you close to him. Finally you couldn’t take it anymore. Everything pent up inside you was released. You practically screamed as you came, and Luca’s voice whispered encouragement in your ear. You fell back onto the pillow, tears in the corners of your eyes, and laughed, body shaking.

Your bodies were sticky with drying sweat as you lay side by side in the aftermath. You lay your head on Luca’s chest, and when he spoke his voice reverberated through your body.

“What had you so upset?” he asked gently.

You were finally ready to talk about it.

“My boss. She’s refusing to pay me for work I already did. It’s no small amount. She’s really fucked me.”

“Hmm.” Luca went silent, but you could hear his mind working.

“Where do you work?” he asked after a while. You told him. He seemed to make a mental note. Then he tilted your head towards him and kissed your lips.

“I hope you call me again,” he said, his mischievous-looking eyes making you feel warm all over.

There was no doubt in your mind that you would.

* * *

But Luca turned out to be the one to call you next. You were surprised and delighted to hear his voice the next afternoon.

“I was wondering if I could come by sometime soon,” he asked. “I have a check for you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Your boss owed you-“ He read off a very specific amount of money- “Correct?”

“That’s right.”

“She doesn’t owe you anymore.”

A slow smile crept onto your lips.

“And how did that happen?”

“I had some friends go over and talk to her. Good men. She agreed to pay you the full amount of what she owed.”

You were filled at once with a healthy amount of fear and intrigue. You figured it would be best not to ask too many questions of this mysterious New York-Italian.

“Wow. I don’t know what to say. Thank you.”

“So I’ll bring it to you tonight.”

Both of you fell silent. You fidgeted, bursting with thoughts, but saying nothing. Once again, Luca jumped in before you.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he said in a low, sultry voice.

You smiled, feeling the heat rising to your face. “Good.”


End file.
